Present Tense
by Smackalicious
Summary: After their experience in the Library, Donna has a question for the Doctor - about her future, with him. Tag to Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead. Ten & Donna friendship. ONESHOT.


**Title: Present Tense**  
 **Pairing: None. Ten/Donna if you want it.**  
 **Rating: K+**  
 **Genre: Gen**  
 **Cat: Angst, Episode Tag, Friendship**  
 **Spoilers: Tag to Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead.**  
 **Warnings: None.**  
 **Summary: After their experience in the Library, Donna has a question for the Doctor - about her future, with him.  
** **Author's Note: Was inspired to write this after seeing a gifset of the scene with River realizing who Donna is and Donna's mild freak out about where she is in the future. I was intending it to be a little more comforting than it is. Sorry about that. At any rate, enjoy.**

* * *

It wasn't until hours after they'd returned to the TARDIS that the Doctor realized Donna had been unusually quiet. Not that he was much in the mood for talk himself, after everything that had happened, but usually when he got in a funk, Donna was right there to snap him out of it. This time, she seemed just as out of it as he felt.

He found her in the kitchen, hunched over the table with a steaming mug of hot cocoa in her hands. Ah, must be really bad if she had gone right for chocolate.

She seemed to sense his entrance as she sat up slightly, but she made no further motions to acknowledge him.

He cleared his throat softly. "Mind if I sit?" he said.

She shrugged. "'s your ship, Spaceman."

Ooh, really bad. Normally she took possession of the TARDIS just as much as he did. She _did_ live there with him, after all.

She lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip, then tossed her head, sending some hair behind her shoulder. The Doctor tried to hide his frown, but she could see his expression and looked him in the eye. "Did you have something to say?" she asked, her voice cool.

"Donna, are you alright?" He wanted to reach across the table, show her he was there for her, but she didn't look as though she particularly wanted him there in the first place, so he figured it would be better to play it safe and keep his hands to himself.

She looked at him for a moment, then something broke in her eyes and she looked away. The Doctor could see the sheen of tears and felt a moment of awkwardness; he really didn't like dealing with emotions.

A minute or two of heavy silence passed and then Donna turned back to him, her voice barely in control when she spoke. "Doctor, do you ever make your companions leave?" He remained silent and Donna took that as all the proof she needed. She nodded and pushed herself to her feet, though her hands were shaking as she did so. "Sorry, I need to. . ." She began to walk away, but the Doctor reached out and grabbed her forearm before she could pass the table. She glanced down at his hand, then back to his face, raising an eyebrow at him.

He immediately dropped his hand, mumbling an apology, and Donna tried to walk away again, but his voice stopped her. "No, Donna." She turned to face him, finding him shaking his head. "You're here as long as you want to be here."

Donna felt herself blush and she ducked her head so he couldn't see her reaction. "I just. . ." she started, then shook her head. "That woman today, Professor Song, she didn't know me, and she's from _your_ future, so I suppose I just thought. . ."

He scoffed. "Donna, I'm centuries older than you. I probably meet her one or two hundred years into the future! There are so many reasons-"

"Oh, don't you pull that Time Lord bull on me," Donna interrupted, her voice rising with every word. "You didn't see the way she looked at me when she realized who I was. She _knew_ who I was, but she didn't _know_ me, Doctor. She looked at me like, like. . ." Her voice fell. "Like I was important. So important."

The Doctor remained silent for a moment, then when he did speak, his voice was thick with emotion. "That's because you are," he said, and Donna gave him a look that said she wanted to believe him, but she wouldn't allow herself to.

"Then _where am I_?" The tears filling her eyes finally spilled over as she continued to plead with the Doctor. "All I've ever wanted, my whole life, was someone to want me, someone to keep me. . ." She trailed off, closing her eyes as the tears continued to slide down her cheeks, and her voice was a whisper when she spoke again. "She looked so sad. Like she was seeing a ghost."

She heard the scraping of the Doctor's chair as he stood up, then felt his hands on her shoulders, sliding down to her upper arms. "Donna," he said, and she could hear the barely restrained panic in his voice, "look at me."

She refused at first, stubborn as always, but when the Doctor's fingers sunk into her skin slightly, she gave in, letting out a breath at the expression of concern on his face. No one had ever looked at her like that before, like all they cared about was that she was okay. She knew then that he was the best friend she had ever had. All her other "friends" would disappear if she broke down, but not the Doctor. Not when it was really important.

"I am not about to let anything happen to you, Donna," he said, and she felt more than heard the tremor in his voice. Suddenly, she forgot about her own tears in favor of comforting him.

"Doctor, it's alright," she murmured. "I'm right here."

He nodded, and she lifted her arms to pull him into a hug. He clamped on to her in return, making her gasp, and she felt her tears threatening to return. How could she ever leave him?

"I won't leave," she mumbled against his neck. "Not ever. You'll have to force me out against my will."

The Doctor wanted to say something, tell her not to make promises like that, or assure her of the same thing from himself, that he would never _make_ her leave, but his throat closed up even thinking of the words. He couldn't promise her that, no matter how much he wanted to. That just wasn't how things worked for him.

Instead, he gathered her closer, swallowing hard at the half-whimper, half-sob she let out, and buried his nose in her hair, knowing he may not always have the opportunity to do so. "Yeah," he responded at last, closing his eyes and refusing to think about archaeologists from the future and what that meant for the present.

 **THE END**


End file.
